


Reldai

by Saidicam29



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6503872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saidicam29/pseuds/Saidicam29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Spock is maturing...and Sarek is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reldai

Amanda laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand. She was unable to stop herself but nonetheless tried not to insult any Vulcans nearby. "Ooohh…" She shook her head. 

"What amuses you, my wife?" Sarek continued to pour through the food box, 'picnic basket' as his wife was wont to call it, although he repeatedly pointed out it was not a basket. It was a box. 

"Spock." She took some of the containers from Sarek and opened them, sliding them across to the edge of their table so neighbors could help themselves. It was the 5th of Z'at, a day when neighborhoods gathered and shared food and water with each other in an attempt to reinforce clan ties. As it so happens, everyone who lived within the area, at least as far as Amanda ever goes, is somehow related to them distally, although she had long ago given up on understanding Vulcan family ties. On Earth it would be called a Town Social, but apparently the word social holds some sort of emotional connotation, and Sarek insisted it be referred to by the closest Standard translation…the Communal. "He has been wrapped tighter than a Telsa coil lately." 

"I had noticed," Sarek muttered absently, reexamining the dishes he had already pulled out. Amanda always made prusah kisan for the Communal. It had to be here somewhere. 

"Have you ascertained a cause?"

"Girls," she said definitively. 

"What about them?" Sarek eyed a neighbor passing by with prusah kisan on his plate. He sniffed in his direction. It was not his wife's. 

""He's discovered them." She continued setting out their dishes, nodding and exchanging greetings with those who came by. 

"If you mean that in the…" he leaned toward her, lowering his voice, "sexual context then you are mistaken. Spock is too young for that." 

Amanda raised an eyebrow in imitation of her adopted people. "Spock is eighteen, Sarek. Won't be long and he'll be done with school and off to…whatever he decides to do." 

"The Vulcan Science Academy," Sarek insisted. 

"Well, whatever. The point is he's not a little boy anymore. It's a perfectly normal age." 

"You mean a normal age for humans." 

"Yes, for humans," she replied smartly, then softened her tone, "and also, apparently, for Spock." She looked at her son and chuckled. "Oh, just look at him, Sarek. The boy is practically lecherous out there." 

Sarek abandoned his search to observe his son. Spock was alone, perched on a boulder, silently watching the activities of the people around him -- a perfectly normal Vulcan behavior. He was about to admonish his wife for her salacious thoughts when something about his son's demeanor seemed…odd. Sarek continued to watch. Spock stiffened as Prala, a female peer of his, walked past him. He continued to follow her path with his eyes long after she left his natural line of sight until her path intercepted that of T'Zera, the mother of one of Spock's friends. Spock's gaze followed T'Zera as she walked in his direction. She greeted him briefly, to which he replied, then just as she passed he witnessed Spock lean forward and inhale deeply, his eyes closed in… Sarek's facial muscles went slack. "He is too young," he stammered softly. 

"Oh, now…don't look like that." She briefly covered his hand with hers, the only sort of physical touching permitted in public view. "He's just growing up. I'll be right back. I see Strayn and T'Los, and I want to say hi." 

Sarek didn't object, nor did he consent. He was fixated on his son, who, as his wife had insisted, was fixated on the females around him. "He is too young," he whispered, his voice unusually tinged with an emotion…fear. 

**~~**

Sarek slowed his pace as he approached the school. For several weeks since the Communal, he had planned his departure from work to coincide with Spock's release from his academics in order to follow him home and observe him further. His interest in females was abnormal, but, thus far, other than that one incidence with T'Zera, he had not crossed the line of propriety too overtly, and fortunately the naïvety of his peers had let the meaning behind his occasionally precocious behaviors go unnoticed. Sarek had been diligent in enforcing Spock's daily meditation schedule, and no slip of control went unremarked upon. It was Sarek's hope that this would eventually enable Spock to control these…behaviors…until he outgrew this peculiar…phase.

"Prala!" 

Sarek inwardly cringed as Spock's yell earned the attention of not just its intended target, but nearly everyone else in the vicinity. Then Spock ran, actually ran, across the courtyard to her side. 

"What is the emergency?" Prala asked when he stopped. 

"There is no emergency." 

"Then why are you running, Spock?" 

Spock shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. "I merely wanted to catch up with you." 

Prala tilted her head in confusion. "But I had stopped. You would have caught up to me at the normal pace as well." 

Sarek folded his hands at his waist, listening closely, waiting to see how Spock would account for his behavior. 

"I did not wish to…delay you…any more than necessary, Prala." 

The young girl looked down a moment, then back up at Spock. "Understood. How may I service you?" 

Sarek saw Spock's eyebrow raise, the glint of mischief obvious from even his distance. He held his breath. 

"I request permission to walk home with you." 

Sarek released his breath. 

Spock waited just a fraction of time, too short to provide her the opportunity to answer. "It would be logical. We both take the same path." 

Prala seemed to consider this for an extended length of time. "You may walk with me." They both turned and began heading out of the courtyard when she turned to Spock again. "But at the normal pace," she teased. 

Sarek's lips pressed tightly together when a brief smile fluttered across Spock's lips. 

They had left the city limits of Shi'Kahr, and now the path was nearly deserted as the teenagers neared their respective homes. Sarek slowed his pace further lest he be noticed. Prala wordlessly turned to enter her courtyard when Spock softly called her back. She waited patiently for him to speak. 

"I… That is, would it be permissible if…" Spock's words trailed off as he took a step closer to Prala. 

Alarm klaxons went off in Sarek's head. 'Spock! No!' But he could only stand there, appalled, as his son leaned forward and pressed his lips against the lips of a follow Council member's daughter. His sixteen year old daughter. 

Prala's eyes widened, but otherwise she had no reaction. "Did that action have meaning, Spock?" 

Spock's breathing was slightly erratic as he answered. "It does. It is a Terran custom, with different meanings. Sometimes it is used in greeting another, or sometimes it expresses…affection." 

"Indeed." She looked away uncomfortably. "I am not human, Spock." 

"I know," Spock quickly assured her. "I thought you might find it…interesting." 

Prala folded her arms across her stomach. "I am…unsure of an appropriate response." 

Spock stepped even further into her already infringed upon space. "Typically, if the person kissed is…not offended…she might respond by kissing him back." 

"I see," Prala breathed with great consternation. Then, with lightening speed and perhaps not without a mild degree of pain she thrust her face against Spock's then immediately pulled away, stepping back to regain her personal space. 

As unpleasant as that action seemed to Sarek, his son seemed immensely pleased. 

"Good day, Spock." Prala bowed then turned to reenter her estate. Spock once again called out to her, and she turned, but this time she did not return. 

"Perhaps…tomorrow…I could walk with you again and…show you more Terran customs?" 

Prala's brow creased. "If that is your wish." She turned and walked toward her home at a rate that was somewhat faster than "normal." 

**~~**

Sarek went against protocol and entered the meditation chamber before Spock was finished. "Spock'am," he called, waiting as Spock rose back up through his meditative levels. "Get dressed. Meet me at the front entry." 

Spock stared at the chamber door well after Sarek had left. 

In the flitter, Spock stared out the front shield watching the desert stream by while he contemplated his father's motives. First, he had interrupted Spock's meditation, a subject of which Sarek had been obsessively stressing the importance of. Second, he took Spock from the house and selected the flitter, not the ground car, to go on some trip well after end-meal to a location he refused to disclose. They had been traveling for 1.84 v'hral already and his father had not said a single word. The flitter decreased power, pulling Spock from his contemplations. They landed outside a small building. Looking around, Spock could see no other signs of civilization. Was he being left here?!  
"Have I done something wrong, sa'mekh?" Spock asked, turning in his seat to appeal to Sarek. 

Sarek shook his head. "No, Spock. You did nothing wrong." He looked at his son and could not resist reaching out to touch his face. So young… Spock's eyes widened in alarm at the action. "Cast out your fear, Spock'am. I would not allow harm to befall you." 

Together, they entered a small foyer containing nothing but a bench and a rope hanging from the ceiling. Sarek pulled the rope, and from somewhere inside Spock could hear a responding chime. A moment later a robed, middle-aged woman entered the room. 

"Sarek," she greeted, her speech tinged with an accent Spock could not identify. "You return." She turned and lifted the seat of the bench to pull out a folded robe matching her own. She held it out to Sarek. 

"Do you have something smaller? For my son." 

Her eyes slowly roamed to Spock, then snapped back to his father. "He will witness?" 

"No," Sarek said quickly. "He is in need of…experience." Spock glanced at his father, trying to ascertain his meaning. He felt the woman's gaze studying him and met it. 

"He is a child." 

Spock bristled slightly. 

"He is…half human." 

Spock's head snapped toward his father. 'Why?' 

"I am aware," she said.

"And…in certain aspects," Sarek spoke slowly, meaningfully, "he is more than half." 

Spock nearly staggered at the betrayal. The woman traded the one robe for another, handing it to him. 

"Change in there," she indicated a curtained area. "Leave your clothes inside." 

Spock strode out of the room, refusing to look at his father. He took no care in removing his clothing, refused to even consider folding them up as he'd been taught, and shrugged into his robe. He was no child, nor was he stupid. He knew exactly what was going on here. The odd accent, the abode in the middle of nowhere…Sarek's constant remarks of late regarding his control, his nagging over his meditations… This woman was clearly one of those mystics he'd heard of. Sarek apparently felt Spock was not skillful enough in his mental disciplines and brought him out here for extra tutoring in meditation rather than handle the task himself. Clearly Sarek's more-than-half-human son required professional help. 

Spock whipped the curtain aside and stepped through. The woman and his father remained exactly where they had been when he left them, staring at each other. 

"Follow me," the woman ordered, turning to go back through the door from whence she came. 

Spock moved to obey but stopped short when Sarek stepped forward, blocking him. The woman turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 

"You will be…patient," Sarek decreed, his soft tone making it more of a question. "My son is…" 

The woman nodded. "I always am." 

Spock watched the scene with curiosity made all the greater when his father curled his hands into tight fists before hesitantly taking a large step backward. 

"Go on, Spock'am." 

**~~**

She took him into a slightly larger room containing only a bed and a single chair beside it. The room was dimly illuminated with candles placed upon small shelves scattered sparsely around the room. Spock could see no aseoni, nor even a mat to meditate upon; so, given no further instructions, Spock took a seat on the chair and waited. The woman went to a corner, knelt, her hands in the meditative posture. Spock waited a while in silence, wondering if perhaps he was expected to do the same, then she rose.   
She moved to stand before him, studying him. Spock stoically met her gaze, refusing to be intimidated. He'd played the staring game before. Compared to Sarek, she was an amateur. 

"Do you do well in your academics, Spock?" 

"Yes. I am currently first in my peer group." 

"Impressive." 

Spock bowed his head in appreciation. 

She hesitated, studying the boy further. "Tell me, when one has a curiosity…something unknown that they desire to know…what is the best way to gain such knowledge?" 

Spock considered this a moment, not because he didn't know the answer, but because he was wondering where such a line of questioning was coming from. Sarek says one must always consider not just the question, but the motivations of the asker. "Research," he answered hesitantly. "Experimentation, when applicable." 

"Precisely." She reached for the tie to her robe and pulled, the smooth fabric sliding unobstructed to the floor. 

Spock averted his eyes, but not before the image of her breasts was burned into his mind. Spock had never seen a Vulcan woman's body. He'd had numerous biology courses, of course, but his references contained only drawings and diagrams which, he now realized, weren't nearly as accurate as he had assumed. The only female body he'd ever seen was his mother when he was much younger, but, apparently, there were differences. 

"What do you think of my body?" 

"It seems…" Many different adjectives raced through Spock's mind, in several languages, thanks to his mother's influence, but he quickly dismissed them all as inappropriate.   
"You should put your robe back on." 

"Why?" she asked politely. 

"My father…" 

"Is not coming back." 

Spock glared at her, heedless of her naked state. Sarek wouldn't abandon him here! 'Father!' Spock called out to Sarek through the parental bond, but he received no response. In fact, the warm place where his father has resided his entire life suddenly turned cold. Spock gasped in mental agony. 

"It is my understanding," the woman slowly continued despite his distress, "that you have become…curious of females." 

"Untrue!" Spock vehemently denied. How? How did they know?

"Spock," she stepped even closer, glancing meaningfully at his groin. "I can see that it is." 

Spock turned from her as much as possible in mortification. 

"Do not have fear, it is a natural thing, but it is only here, with me, that you can assuage your curiosity without risk of rejection or recriminations." Spock heard her climb on the bed. "This is your opportunity for research, Spock. I am here for you to explore as little or as much as you wish." 

The room stood in silence for a length of time Spock's brain could not seem to compute. Several times he risked a quick glance in her direction, just enough to tell she was on her back in the center of the bed, her eyes closed. He continued to wait, his focus on eradicating the source of his embarrassment, which was only partly effective. He glanced at her again, noting she remained in the exact same position. Was she sleeping? Spock slowly turned in his seat, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of movement, but he noted only paralytic limbs, unmoving eyelids, and the steady rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. He became mesmerized by their movements, the soft roundness of the flesh, the dark areolas encircling a small pert nipple, neither of which had any pink at all to them. Slowly his eyes devoured her, feeling wicked in his sin, but nonetheless eager to see that which he had been imagining for months. Her stomach was flat; though not as tight as it would have been when she was a young girl. Her hips flared slightly, narrowing down to thighs between which lay a very thin disbursement of hair, light in color, and wiry in texture. 

'Woman!' some primal part of his mind screamed, his penis flared to life, his body, his whole being suddenly aching to be near her. Spock closed his eyes trying to block it, trying to control the urges. "What am I do to?" he asked breathlessly. 

"Do what seems natural. It is permitted." 

Spock licked his lips nervously. Then, ever so slowly, he reached out. His hand began shaking uncontrollably, and he pulled it back, lest she discover his weakness. He took a moment to center himself, to steady himself, then, after checking again that her eyes were still closed, he reached out and lightly touched her thigh. He left it there, waiting, watching, but she remained perfectly placid. Standing, he stood beside the bed looking down at her. He placed his other hand upon her stomach waiting, expecting that eventually he would be told he had crossed a line. Emboldened by her silence, he lightly trailed his fingers over her abdomen and across her ribcage, enthralled by the ripples of muscles that reacted to his touch. He allowed the back of his hands to brush against her breast, casually, no more than could be dismissed as accidental. Then he did so again, a little firmer, a little less accidentally. Spock bit his lower lip then, in a mad dash, placed both his hands upon her breasts. He stopped…she did not move. Spock cupped them, watched how they filled his palms, and hefted their weight before abandoning that to trace his fingers over the puckered nipples, feeling a corresponding tightening in his gut as they tightened under his touch. He was breathing heavy now, nearly dizzy from some strange euphoria. 

He watched his fingers trace back down her abdomen to the edge of her most womanly part. "What is your name?"

"You may call me reldai." 

Spock frowned. "That is a title, not a name." Being a religious leader explained how his father would know of her, given that the men of his father's line traditionally held a place as a clan Elder, as Spock would eventually do upon Sarek's death, but this did not seem…fitting a priestess' duties. 

"It is what I am called." 

Accepting her answer, as unsatisfactory as it was, Spock brushed his fingers lightly over her mound. She parted her legs slightly, and he began to explore her most secret places. He watched her face for any indications his actions were painful, though, logically, his mind told him the area mustn't be too fragile as women survive the Time and go through child birth, nevertheless, it just…seemed like one must be careful there. Pulling his hand back, Spock stared at his damp digits, then brought it to his face to smell. Spock closed his eyes against the rush of desire her scent evoked and swallowed hard, curious at the sudden increase of saliva in his mouth. Spock glanced at her again, but she was not watching. Spock slowly touched his finger to his tongue, not knowing what to expect, and yet somehow surprised to find it pleasing to his senses. Spock climbed upon the bed to reach her more easily and sat in stunned silence when she automatically pulled up her knees, spreading herself for him. Completely without conscious thought, Spock bent down, using his tongue as he'd used his finger just moments before. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. 

**~~**

Sarek paced around his flitter, stopping to lean upon it as his personal communicator chimed once more. He took it out, knowing what he would see. Amanda again. He'd had a difficult time getting Spock out of the house at such an unusual hour with no valid excuse to his wife's protestations of it being a "school night" other than to promise he would have Spock home at a reasonable hour to ensure he would be rested for his academics the next day. 'Reasonable hour' had long since passed, and he silenced the chime, not answering. He was not in a balanced enough state to put off his wife's ever-challenging mind, and he certainly was not about to reveal where they were. Sarek allowed himself a sigh in the isolated desert. He glared at the small house. It had been entirely too long. Maybe he should get Spock. Maybe it had been a mistake in bringing him here. What would Spock do? His emotionally immature Vulcan mind encased in an overly mature human body. How would he cope within the confines of Vulcan society? 

**~~**

Spock pressed closer to her side, his arm around her waist, kissing and nuzzling against her neck and shoulder. 

"Have you yet exhausted yourself, Spock?" she asked. 

Spock smiled, his lips hidden against her neck, and nodded. He lifted himself to look down at her, turning her face toward him and leaned down to kiss her again. This time, however, she jerked her face away. 

"Then it is time for you to go."

Spock frowned at her. "Can I not stay here, for now at least?" He reached for her breast, but missed his target as she stood up and retrieved her robe.   
"Your time with me is finished," she said not unkindly, tightening the garment around her. "Your father awaits you outside." 

Spock's blood ran cold at the thought. She found his robe and laid it on the bed next to him. "May I…May I return?" he whispered. 

"No." She left the room. 

It took several minutes before Spock's brain could process what was happening. Slowly he moved off the bed and slipped into his robe, then moved through the door. He turned to the changing room and noticed the curtain had been pushed aside. The chamber was empty. He spun to find her patiently waiting. "My clothes are gone," he accused. 

"Sarek has them." 

Spock felt a tremor coursing through his limbs, he struggled to stop them. "I want them back." 

She tilted her head, studying him. "I see no logical reason for him not to return them to you." She moved to the front door, opened it, then stepped to the side and gestured for him to precede her. 

**~~**

Sarek saw the door open and straightened, stiff with anxiety. His son emerged, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, his head bowed in shame. Sarek strode forward, slowing as he neared his son, watching him, not unsympathetic to Spock's current misery. 

She stepped out, standing beside Spock. "It was a success," she informed him, although she didn't need to. Sarek could smell the reldai on him. "If not a somewhat…unnatural one." 

Sarek's gaze snapped to her. "What do you mean?" he asked tersely. 

"He…" she paused, glancing at the boy. "Are qom'i…orally fixated creatures?" 

Sarek turned his head toward Spock, who turned away, his loathing palpable even without the parental bond. "Wait for me in the flitter," Sarek gently instructed. He paid no attention to the rapid pace in which Spock did his bidding…the cause was sufficient. 

He turned back to the reldai. "Did he offend you?" Sarek asked, knowing full well even if he had, a Vulcan could never admit it.

She seemed to consider this. "It was not unpleasant, simply…odd." She looked at him thoughtfully. "It is…an interesting combination." 

Sarek leaned forward, his head tilted in question. 

"Terran passions and Vulcan stamina." 

Sarek straightened, carefully schooling his face against an odd combination of appall and what he suspected his wife might call pride. 

"Who is his bondmate?" she asked urgently. 

Sarek frowned at her tone. "T'Pring." 

The reldai thought a moment. "Lineage?" 

"Straun and T'Sila." 

She looked away, her thoughts inward. "I think…Spock shall require…alternatives." 

Sarek bristled. Clasping his hands behind his back he took a moment to school his thoughts. "They are both so young. I believe, once they are older, and fully bonded, they will--" 

"Spock has special needs," she insisted. "Not unlike his father." 

Sarek's lips compressed to a fine line. "I will consider what you have said." He held his hand up in the ta'al. "My house is honored by your service, reldai."

She bowed. "It is an honor to serve the house of Surak." 

**~~**

Sarek got into the flitter, paying his son no mind as he lifted off and sped over the darkened desert. Sarek recalled the night Skon had brought him here, when he was much older than the boy next to him, and she had offered the exact same advice. Skon had followed her suggestion, concerned a failed union would result in his son's death, or at the very least a life of discontent for both involved. Under much scrutiny, and not without significant withdrawals from the clan's coffer, Sarek's bond with his intended was severed, and Sarek's father forbade him from taking a bondmate, against all traditions he had ever been taught. Instead, when the need arose, he was to use the…alternatives.   
No. He would not take the reldai's advice. Spock *would* bond with the Vulcan T'Pring, and he would have a successful union. He must. There were already too many other differences working against him. He couldn't add this too. Nor would Sarek condemn his son to a life of strange women to lie beneath him, the possibility of a child being born to a woman he never knew, who would deprive him of the chance to be a father. On some planets, for certain species, such would be a life to envy, but not for a Vulcan. Vulcan men feel a need to be connected; they need to have someone to temper their moods, to hold their secrets. Whenever Sarek looked back at the first part of his life it was with no small amount of disgust. Women were like the proverbial stone about his neck. He needed them, and yet he detested that power they held over him. 

Then, while on a mission to Earth, serving as his father's aide, Sarek had met Amanda. She was working on a project to develop a universal translating device, her portion being to translate and incorporate the Vulcan language. Skon assigned him to the case due to his previous work in computers, and with the hopes that working closely with Terrans would improve his diplomatic skills. He began working closely with Amanda, and not always at the embassy. By the time Skon had realized his intent and could have whisked him back to Vulcan, or locked him away with the reldai who was present under the guise of an entry-level computer technician, it was too late. Presented with a woman he greatly respected, and who had vastly different cultural mores, on a planet that neither knew who he was nor cared what he did, Sarek experienced his first real relationship with a woman. He made her his, by both his own customs and hers, and, *because* of who he was, and his own people's cultural mores, there wasn't a soul on Vulcan who could stop him, assuming any, other than Skon, would want to. It is said more than a few Vulcan fathers found their mediation times greatly reduced upon news The Unbonded could no longer roam. More importantly, Sarek had proved the reldai wrong. He could be in a successful union. 

Sarek terminated his internal reflections confident in his logic. He looked over at his son, sitting silently, his body turned from him, bent, his arms still wrapped tightly around himself in the reldai's robe, his head resting dejectedly against the flitter door. "There is no cause for shame, Spock'am." 

Spock's eyes squeezed shut, and he attempted to turn further away. "Why did you bring me there," he hissed. 

Sarek watched their path for obstacles, even though the flitter's automatic pilot and sensor system made it unnecessary. "For multiple reasons." He gave Spock another quick glance. "If it…is meaningful to you…she was not unimpressed." 

Spock's chest hitched. "Indeed. So impressed she told me never to return." 

"You are young. She does not want you to become attached." 

When Spock did not answer Sarek looked over, shocked to see his face quivering like it used to before he would cry, back when he did cry. "Spock?" Sarek's mind began to race with possibilities that could cause such a catastrophic breakdown of his son's control. "Did something happen you did not--" 

"She told me to do what was natural, then she called it unnatural." 

"Not unnatural," Sarek reassured him. "Just…outside her realm of experience, as a Vulcan." 

Spock was nonplussed. "How?" 

"Your instincts, Spock, are sometimes Vulcan…are most times Vulcan," he stressed, "but you do have instincts that are…quite human." 

Spock slowly shook his head. "As interesting as that may be, Father, unless you happen to know where there is a female of *my* species it would appear I am doomed to disgust every woman I meet." 

Sarek glared at him, a reprimand about to spring forth, when he realized this was Spock's human instincts he was facing now, and, just like his mother, Spock was lashing out in anger when in fact his predominant emotional status was pain. "Your logic is flawed, my son," he said calmly. "First, it does not take being the same species to make a union successful. Your mother and I are proof of that. Second, you did not disgust her. Some of your actions simply…surprised her." 

Spock laid his head back against the seat, looking out his side window. "Did she tell you what I did?" 

"She did not." 

Spock turned his head in Sarek's direction, his focus on the flitter's controls. "Then how can you be sure?" 

"Do not forget I am married to a human. I am aware of their…techniques." He glanced sidelong at his son in time to see his nose crinkle in disgust before he turned back to his window. "Forgive me, my son. I was unaware you maintained some illusion that your mother and I separately evolved as the only members of our species to be beyond the mortal need to reproduce and yet still managed to find each other." 

Spock slouched down into his seat. "I would welcome such an illusion," he said sullenly, "however you both are entirely too loud for me to maintain it." 

Sarek started at the insolence, then pondered the possibility. "That is untrue," he accused. 

"Would you like me provide quotes? You will have to forgive me, however, if I cannot quite match your…inflections." 

"Enough!" The flitter remained silent while both occupants struggled with embarrassment. "The point I was attempting to make is, as long as you go to your wife with the intention of pleasing her, these other matters will resolve themselves. Just because your inclinations do not match hers does not mean she will not enjoy them as you do. And, should she not, you will simply exclude those items from your…routine…as they would serve no purpose if they do not..." Sarek sighed softly, turning to look out his own side window, "have the desired effect. And, if there are certain…techniques you have a special affinity for, she would most likely acquiesce in an attempt to please you." He waited for several minutes with no reply from his son, but lacked the fortitude to find out why. "Do you understand?" 

"Father, I formally request we end this particular conversation thread." 

"Accepted," he quickly agreed. Sarek took out his communicator to send a written message assuring his wife of their health and future return. "The reldai," he heard his son speak, and finished up his message then returned the device to his pocket. 

"She knew you," Spock said quietly, remembering her words, knowing that Vulcan language was very precise. "You have been there before. You have been with her?" 

Sarek sighed softly. "Yes. Twice…with her." 

Spock was silent a moment. "There are others?" 

"Of course," Sarek said, bemused. He turned to Spock. "Did you think she was the only one on all of--" Sarek stopped upon recognizing the expression on his son's face. "Spock, you will not be returning to the reldai. You will have no cause to." 

"How can you be so sure? You did." For the first time since leaving the reldai his son looked at him. 

"I was unbonded. You are not." 

"And yet you brought me there tonight," Spock pointed out. 

"Only because," Sarek clamped his mouth shut, employing some light meditation techniques he always found helpful when his wife would begin circling his logic. "I brought you here tonight because your situation had developed to the point of affecting your ability to function. It is my belief that, now that you have had this experience and no longer have to…wonder, you will be capable of rectifying any further issues through meditation. That is, until it is time to take your wife." 

"But if I was unsuccessful?" 

Sarek felt the muscle in his jaw spasm. He leveled his gaze on his son, who stared back at him impudently. "To borrow your mother's phrase, do not invite trouble, Spock. I do not expect failure." 

Spock looked away, resting his head against the seat. Suddenly he sat up, turning in his seat toward his father. "Mother? Does she know?" 

"No," Sarek quickly assured him. "And she is to never learn of this." 

Spock's eyes widened in surprise. "She…would disapprove," he surmised. "She would be ashamed of me." 

"She would be ashamed of *me*," Sarek corrected. He shook his head at his son. "She cannot understand what it is to be a Vulcan male." 

"You mean…" Spock looked at his father crestfallen. "You still go?" 

"Of course not," Sarek verified their location on the satellite system. "The few times I sought the reldai were long before I met your mother. I have not spared them a single thought since she and I--" 

"We did agree to end that particular thread," he reminded his father. 

"Of course, my son. Forgive me." He looked at Spock with mirth. "For the record, I was going to say married." 

"Sure you were," he murmured, sounding just like his mother. 

Sarek looked back at the front windshield, watching T'Kuht looming in the sky, his thoughts focused on his son. "Spock, I did…that is to say…tonight was…ultimately…helpful, was it not?" 

Spock considered this carefully. "I believe it will be, ultimately," he qualified. 

"I was not certain," Sarek admitted. "Given your age." 

"I don't understand." 

"Your mother's influence has caused your body to mature early. Your male peers will not experience what you have for another…decade, or so." 

"Oh." Spock took this information equitably. He was used to being different. "And when they do, will they do what I did?" 

"Some may, if that is an option for them." 

Spock shook his head, not entirely surprised. Even when he was Vulcan he still was different than everyone else. He was Spock, cha'Sarek, cha'Skon, cha'Solkar. Born of a linage which can be traced directly to Surak himself, which meant standard rules did not apply. As illogical as it seemed, nepotism ran rampant on Vulcan. "And the others?" 

"Some will control it, on their own. Others, if they are close with their bondmates will perhaps explore these urges together. If not, perhaps with another female they have rapport with." 

"Perhaps…Prala might…" 

"No! Not Prala, not even T'Pring." Sarek turned in his seat. "You must believe me when I tell you none of your peer group is experiencing any of what you are. In this particular aspect, they are much like young children still." He grasped Spock's shoulder to get his son's attention. "I want you word you will make no attempts to…" He left the thought incomplete, knowing Spock would understand. 

"You have my word." 

Sarek released him and turned back, laying his head against his seat, suddenly very weary. Emotionalism wore him out, and it had been hours. "Besides," he continued, "such…dalliances…have the potential for undesirable consequences. I do not have to tell you it would not do for one of our house to be involved in such." 

"Yes, sa'mekh," Spock automatically replied, only half listening, wishing he could be home and in bed, sound asleep. "How do we know that tonight I didn't…that there won't be any…consequences." 

"The reldai have their ways, Spock'am. Do not concern yourself with it." 

Spock turned his head toward his father, suddenly Sarek's vague first "marriage" making sense. "Except T'Rea?" 

His father's expression darkened. "Apparently." 

Spock turned away, sorry he had brought her up, wondering if he should apologize. Debating the matter internally, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, realizing he could still taste the reldai on them. He touched his lips in surprise, only to find her scent still strong on his hand. Remembering what he had done, his tongue snaked out to savor the remnants of his encounter. 

Suddenly the flitter swerved to the right, landing softly on the sand. Spock glanced out his window and saw the Llangon falls in the distance. These falls weren't nearly as impressive as those of his mother's world, but high upon the mountain tops there existed a rare climatic phenomenon in which the moisture that was present at that altitude would turn into a snow fall as the temperatures dropped at night, only to melt off the accumulated snow the next morning. Over time, this water eroded its way down the mountains to the desert floor below. Under natural conditions, most of this water would easily be evaporated by the Vulcan sun the following day, but in the interest of survival for the local fauna, and perhaps any Vulcans who might be journeying about, the base of these falls was now lined with artificial materials that permitted the waters to accumulate into a small pool. 

"Get out." 

Spock spun around. "What?" he asked using Terran vernacular in his panic. "Why?" 

"You must bathe." 

"You cannot mean here…in the falls." 

"I am unaware of any sonics in the desert, my son." Sarek got out of the flitter, removed Spock's regular clothing from the back compartment, then came around to Spock's side. He opened Spock's door. "Out." 

"Why can I not bathe at home?" Spock pleaded. 

"I will not take you back to your mother as you are." 

Spock would not move. "It is nearly sunrise. She will be sleeping." 

"She will not," Sarek insisted. 

"It will be cold," Spock stated, his voice nearly taking on the inflection Amanda used to call "whining" when he was a boy. 

"Exactly," Sarek reached down and took him by the arm to get him out. Spock, of course, did not resist. 

Accepting his fate, Spock walked beside his father to the falls. "You realize at this time of year, at this point in the night, the pool will be at its deepest." 

Sarek looked at his son sardonically. While true, even that meant the waters would be well below Spock's waist. "In which case, how fortunate you are half Human and therefore spared the fear of water submersion your father's people are saddled with." They had reached the pool area. Sarek reached for Spock's robe and pulled it off. "In." 

Spock sighed, stepping up to the edge and dipped the toes of one foot in. He jumped back, looking toward his father. "Reconsider," he begged. 

Sarek shook his head. 

Slowly, Spock submerged first one foot, then the other, then began shuffling slowly toward the falls, the water gradually getting higher as he went. He wrapped his arms across his chest, attempting to stop the shivering. When he glanced back at his father, Sarek was nearby searching the ground for something. Spock's robe lay in a pile on the ground. "What are you doing?" 

Sarek stood up showing Spock two rocks he held in his hands. "I am attempting to burn your robe." 

Forgetting about the cold, Spock walked back toward the water's edge. Sarek was now squatting near his robe, striking the two rocks together. "Please don't." 

Sarek glanced at him, then stood up. "Vulcans do not keep mementoes, Spock." 

"I know that," Spock said defensively. "It just…seems wasteful." He lifted his chin at his father defiantly. "It is, after all, a perfectly good robe." 

"Quite right, Spock," Sarek readily agreed. "Then, it is your wish to take it home with you?" 

Spock nodded decisively. "Yes." 

Sarek took several steps closer to the pool. "Then, I trust you are prepared with an explanation for your mother as to how you obtained it?" 

Spock's shoulders slumped, and he turned away, submersing himself under the falls. 

**~~**

Sarek slowly pulled into the estate, killing the engine. The two men watched their home wordlessly. 

"Are we going to sneak in?"

"Sneak?" Sarek shook his head. "Vulcans do not sneak," he declared. 

Neither one moved as they watched the house for signs of activity. 

"Then…we will simply walk in?" 

"Of course. As quietly as we can." He felt Spock's eyes on him and turned to meet them. "She could be sleeping. It is not sneaking if it is a courtesy." 

"I see." 

They made it through the door, across the living room, and up the stairs with neither sight nor sound of Amanda. Spock was just crossing past his parents' threshold when he was stopped in his tracks. 

"Where have you two been?!" 

He looked frantically at his father, who looked resigned. 

Amanda came out the door in nothing but her nightgown. "Do you know what time it is?" she shouted at Spock then turned to her husband. "You promised you'd have him home at a decent time." She turned back to Spock. "Why are you wet?" She spun toward Sarek. "You'll be lucky if he doesn't catch his death after tonight!" Turning back to her son she ran her hands over clothes and hair to see how wet he really was, then across his face in a supposed attempt to gauge his temperature.   
Spock gently grasped her wrists and brought their hands down. 

"Go to your room right now. Get into your warmest pajamas and get to sleep!" 

Spock released her and turned to go. 

"I believe meditation would be a more beneficial use of your time." 

Spock glanced back at his parents, wondering why his father never left well enough alone. 

"Absolutely not, Sarek! Do you realize he has to get up in…" she looked toward the hallway clock. 

Sarek stepped toward her, blocking her view, and took her by the shoulders, turning her away from his son. "My wife," Sarek glanced over her head meeting his son's gaze. "Spock is a Vulcan. He can go several days without rest and still function at full capacity." He nodded once in Spock's direction, dismissing him. "But you, however," Sarek looked down at her, "should have been asleep hours ago." He turned her towards their room, escorting her in. 

"How could I possibly sleep when you two were who knows where doing who knows what?" 

Sarek imagined what it would do to her state of rest if she knew. "Really, Amanda, you must stop fussing over our son so." He closed the door behind them. "He is not a child anymore." 

THE END


End file.
